And now for a few words about this remarkable vessel, whose exploits were the cause of a revolution in the building of ships-of-war, throughout the world.

And first, as to her name. Ericsson proposed to call her Monitor, because she would prove a warning to the leaders of the Southern rebellion, as well as to the authorities of other countries who should be inclined to break our blockade, or otherwise interfere in our affairs.

Captain Ericsson was a native of Sweden, and in his youth had served in both the army and navy of that country. Thence he went to England, to pursue his profession as an engineer, and came out to America, to superintend the construction of the United States screw steamer Princeton, in 1839. Here he remained, dying in 1895, far advanced in years. In 1854 he planned a shot-proof iron-plated vessel, the drawings for which he forwarded to Louis Napoleon, saying, among other things, that his invention would place an entire fleet of wooden vessels at its mercy, in calms and light winds. Louis Napoleon politely declined to accept his proposition to build such a vessel for the French Navy.

When it became evident that a long and arduous struggle was before us, at the opening of the Civil War, certain gentlemen entered into a contract to build such a vessel for our Government, on Ericsson’s plans, and under his superintendence. The ironclad was contracted for in October, 1861, to be ready in the shortest possible space of time. The contract price paid for her hull was seven and a half cents a pound, and Ericsson and his backers were to forfeit payment for the whole, unless she was found to work in a satisfactory manner.

His plans were only partly drawn, and it is said that he frequently made his drawings, to overcome difficulties, the same day they were to be worked from.

The hull was built by Rowland, at Green Point, Long Island; the turret at the Novelty Works, New York; the machinery and mechanism of the turret at Delamater’s, in New York; while the massive port-stoppers, which swung down by machinery, as the guns fired and the turret revolved, were forged in Buffalo.

Wonderful to relate, this entirely novel structure was finished in one hundred days from the time the plates for her keel were laid. She was launched on the 30th of January, 1862, having large wooden tanks under her stern, to prevent her from running under water, as she went off the ways.

She was delivered to the naval authorities, at the New York Navy-yard, on the 19th of February, following. After two trial trips it was found to be necessary to hurry this novel and almost untried piece of complicated machinery down to Hampton Roads, to meet the formidable ironclad whose doings we have just been relating.

The officers and crew were in circumstances entirely new to them. “Calmly and terribly heroic,” says Dorr, “was the act of manning this coffin-like ship,” in which the crew was, as it were, hermetically sealed.

Lieutenant John L. Worden, of the Navy, having been ordered to the command, proceeded to select a crew from the receiving ships North Carolina and Sabine. He stated fairly to the men the difficulties and dangers which they might expect to encounter, and yet many more volunteered to go than were required. The officers were ordered in the usual way, except the First Lieutenant, S. D. Greene, who was a volunteer. Chief Engineer Stimers, of the navy, who had been employed as an inspector of some of the work, and who was interested in the performance of the vessel, went down in her as a passenger, and took part, as a volunteer, in her first action.